Scorn of Angels by John Patrick Kennedy Page A

immediate burning infection that remained for a long time after the wounds they caused healed. Mostly they ran on the ground, their long legs scuttling quickly over the rough surfaces of Hell. One particularly noxious breed had skin that stretched out between its front and back legs, forming crude wings that allowed it to glide down from heights, usually onto the back of another, unsuspecting, demon, which it would then try to rip to shreds.
    Transforming into two of them, in mid-air, without letting go of each other’s hands—and while maintaining flight toward the window—was nearly impossible.
    But only nearly .
    Their bodies thinned and elongated. Their bones twisted and wrenched and bent into new shapes. Their fingers became taloned claws, their legs shortened, and they grew tails that lashed behind them to help with momentum and direction. Lastly, their wings furled, shrank, and became stretches of skin between their front and back legs.
    And we’re even still on course, thought Nyx. Now that’s luck. She looked closer at the window.
    There’s no way we’re fitting through there like this.
    She brought her tail in and wrapped it around Persephone’s neck, then disentangled her claws from Persephone’s. Nyx put on a burst of power so she’d go through the window first. She heard Persephone squawk as Nyx’s tail choked her. Then they were both through the window and into the room.
    “Oh, shit,” said Persephone in Nyx’s head.
    Sitting in the chair, just inside the window, was Namtar: a squat, well-muscled Angel, with dark brown face and features, and tusks that protruded up from his lower jaw to glistening points. He was wearing the heavy maroon armor that the male Descended wore for battle.
    Nyx and Persephone landed directly on top of him.
    “What the fuck!” Namtar screamed as the two of them swarmed up his body, attacking his face. He jumped back and tried to bat them away. Had they truly been demons instead of Angels, he would have easily sent them flying across the room. Instead, Nyx sunk her teeth into his face. Her claws dug into his armor, giving her secure purchase while she ate his cheeks and nose. Just below her, Persephone drove her teeth into Namtar’s throat, cutting off his speech before he could say anything more.
    Namtar stumbled to his feet and thrashed around, one hand tearing at their lizard bodies, the other going for his sword. Persephone wrapped her tail around his wrist to stop him, and dug her teeth deeper into his neck, past flesh and windpipe and into veins that exploded out in a rain of silver ichor. Had she been a true demon, she would not have been able to cut through the iron muscles of the Angel’s neck, but because she was an Angel, she slowly chewed her way through while he struggled and fought.
    “Enough of this,” said Nyx, her voice rasping out through the demon-body’s lips and vocal chords. She shifted one claw to rest on Persephone’s back, then shifted back to her own form. Namtar’s eyes went wide at the sight of Nyx, her pale flesh veined with green, her long silver hair streaked with the same shining color. Namtar’s mouth worked in surprise and horror in the second he had before Nyx said, “Let him go, Persephone.”
    Persephone’s jaws dropped off his neck, and Nyx’s sword cleaved through it, sending his head to bounce off a wall. The Angel’s body collapsed. Persephone changed back to her real form, her hand still firmly in Nyx’s. She picked up the head, ignoring its wordless mouthing and shoved it into the narrow window, jamming it there. Then she raised her own sword, willing it into the shape of a club that she brought down on Namtar’s skull twenty times until the Angel’s brain exploded and splattered through the room.
    “There,” Persephone said. “That will keep him busy healing for a while.”
    “Long enough, I hope,” said Nyx. She closed her eyes and searched for Ishtar. She sighed. “Of course she’s in the